Domestic
by blue weekends
Summary: Audrey finds herself in the strangest of situations: in bed with a guy and not in a hurry to leave him.


In the glimmer of morning light peeking through the gaps of the window blinds, Audrey laid her chin on one hand and studied his face. His ordinary, unremarkable, face with its stubble, its bangs and most importantly, somehow, his closed eyes. Watching it, it occurred to her that she never took the time to look at him this closely, this intensely. Which was not strange when she thought about it. He was by no means a ten. He was not six feet tall. He was not able to hold his liquor like he claimed. His wallet was not as well-endowed as she had hoped. He was funny, sure. He was respectful too. But there were plenty of funny guys, plenty of courteous ones too. So he was in many other ways, not up to her expectations.

Yet here she was. Trying to figure out why she invited him in when he had walked her home, a first for her because unlike most of her dates, he didn't offer her a ride back to her place. He had just asked her if she wanted to go for a stroll, stretch the legs, watch the lights of the cityscape slowly and gradually go out, one by one. And she had agreed, for no other reason than he had asked her without shyness but also without demand, such that she had forgotten that usually when a guy asked her for something, she would usually make her best attempt at being offended that he would dare do something as make such an unreasonable request. Not this guy. Nope.

And when they had finally stepped into her home after wandering around the city for hours, an apartment not that different from any other young adult trying to make ends meet in their enormous, overwhelming world, she hadn't asked him if he had a condom. She hadn't put a hand down his black slacks and he hadn't tried to kiss her. All they did was walk to the bedroom and collapse on the mattress in exhaustion, a queen-sized bed not meant for two, and yet they had adapted to without hesitation.

Now she was here, for once, unlike all the other times, not feeling that embarrassment mixed with self-loathing and disgust that usually came from waking up after a one-night stand with her memory in a haze from gin or beer or wine or whatever she had in mind to swallow down in a dozen rounds. She was for once, not in a hurry to slip out of bed, throw on her creased clothes, and creep out the front door.

And another thing. When she usually woke up, she was facing away from the other person in the bed. This time, she had woken up facing him. Whatever that meant. If that was supposed to mean something anyway, anyhow.

On a whim, Audrey turned over and fumbled for her phone on the nightstand, squinting as the display came alight. Unlocking it, she took it and positioned it carefully before snapping a photo of his face, making sure flash was off before she did so. It was a creepy thing for her to do, but it wasn't like she was going to post it on Facebook or Snapchat. Well, unless he pissed her off, which he hadn't done so far, so she guessed that was a plus in her book.

Besides, most guys she knew who wanted their pics taken usually wanted it to be their six pack or maybe that one organ hanging down there. Those were also the types that liked it if she exchanged nudes with them. This guy had not the former, and the latter was nothing to write home about. At least, not as far as she could tell.

Audrey realised her nose was runny. She wiped it on her bare arm with a grimace, put her phone aside and shifted about under the sheets so that a cold draft wouldn't find its way under him, but doing so as slowly and gradually as possible.

It was a hard thing living on her own. She had wanted a cat, but she had allergies to the fur. Same thing with dogs. She hated hamsters and rats, and never understood why people would want something as obscene as a parrot throwing their words back at their faces every day. She had also thought of asking Tiffany to be her roommate, but Tiffany had moved in with her own man, and Audrey had decided that they needed space. She didn't much care for other people, but she had made an exception for Tiffany, for the blonde was one of those few people she had in her life of which she felt like she had no need to act with any pretensions when she was around her. Tiffany's boyfriend, on the other hand, made Audrey want to puke. She didn't know what her friend saw in him but oh well, guess that's what they meant when they said that love was blind.

It must have been a morning for whims, for Audrey reached out and poked his face. More specifically his cheek, his nose and his stubble. His face twitched and he snorted in a most undignified manner. Then without warning, his arm shifted from his pillow and went up and over her shoulder. Audrey froze as she felt his hand touch the nape of her neck, thick fingers in her hair.

Sex was in many ways an exercise of familiarity, of intimacy. Finding pet peeves to avoid and little likings to kindle and rouse. Among other things, Audrey's pet peeve was being touched on her neck. But right then and there, she let the hand lie, afraid that if she tried to remove it, she'd wake him up, and ruin this bizarre thing of his that she was finding herself to be fascinated with. The realisation was both disturbing and alluring.

"Strangest thing," she mumbled softly to herself as she pulled herself in closer to him where it was warmer, more personal. "Darnedest thing."

It made her want to wait for that moment when he opened his eyes so that she was the first thing he would see. It made her want to find out if there was anything else about him that she might like. It made her want to find out if he would stay with her if she would with him.


End file.
